Forgiveness
by WinterSky101
Summary: In the aftermath of the Chitauri disease, Fitz and Simmons realize there are some things they really need to talk about. Post-1.06 (FZZT).


He can't even _look_ at her.

It's not that he doesn't _want_ to. God, she's back and amazingly _not_ dead and not dying anymore and Fitz wants to stare at her forever. But he can't. Because every time he looks at Simmons, all he can see is the pale, sweaty skin and the dark circles under her eyes and the look on her face when she_ jumped out of the freaking plane_ and-

Fitz isn't handling this very well.

"Fitz! Where are you?" It's Simmons, looking for him. Fitz is hiding under his covers. She'll find him, he's sure, but he doesn't move to a better hiding place. Hell, Simmons has two doctorates, even if her social skills are somewhat lacking. (Fitz's are too, so he doesn't really have room to judge.) She'll find him wherever he goes.

"Fitz!" Simmons calls again. Fitz burrows deeper under his covers. She sounds just like she normally does, as if she hadn't just almost _died_ and goddamn it, he _told_ her they shouldn't go out in the field and he _said_ they shouldn't have joined Coulson's team but did she freaking listen? Of course not. Simmons _never_ listens and-

"Fitz!" Simmons sticks her head in his room and sees him on the bed. Her face creases with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Fitz mumbles. He avoids looking at her. Her voice is enough to make the memories resurface, though, and he flinches slightly. He doesn't think Simmons sees it, not with the blankets he's piling over himself.

"What are you doing in bed?" Simmons asks, entering the room. Fitz rolls over to face the wall. He's acting like a child and he knows it, but he can't look at Simmons. He just can't. "Fitz, is something wrong?"

"No," Fitz replies shortly. "Nothing's wrong." He makes no move to get out of bed, which might be why Simmons doesn't believe him.

"Are you ill?" Simmons asked. Fitz catches the slight bit of panic in her voice. He can't blame her. Illnesses aren't a little thing when you're a SHIELD agent, especially not after what just happened. God, what just happened. Fitz shudders again. This time, Simmons catches it.

"Fitz, you're shivering. Are you ill?"

"I'm _fine_, Simmons," Fitz protests. Simmons doesn't believe him. Fitz doesn't blame her; with the way he's acting, he wouldn't believe him either.

"Fitz, please tell me what's wrong," Simmons half-begs. Fitz just burrows deeper under his blankets. Simmons puts a gentle hand on his forehead. "You're a little warm, but not much," she tells him. Fitz knows that; he knows he's not sick. But whatever he says, Simmons won't believe him.

"I'm fine," Fitz tries anyway. He _knows_ Simmons is giving him that look of hers, the one that says she's not putting up with any bullshit.

"Then tell me what's wrong," she challenges. Fitz can't tell her the truth. "That's what I thought," she replies. "I'm going to go make you some tea. Maybe that'll make you feel better."

"Simmons-" Fitz starts, but she's already gone. Fitz sighs. If Simmons keeps this up, he'll have to look at her at some point, and he doesn't think he's ready to do that. She almost died, almost left Fitz behind forever, and thinking about that isn't something Fitz is particularly keen to do.

When Simmons returns a few minutes later with a cup of tea, Fitz pretends to be asleep. Simmons's hand brushes against his forehead gently, moving a few of his more unruly curls back into place. Fitz forces himself not to react to her touch. Simmons sets the tea down on the table next to him and leaves the room. Fitz sits up once she's gone and picks up the cup of tea. Even though he's not sick, the thought of tea is a comforting one. It's made just as he likes it, just as Simmons always makes it. Sometimes, Fitz thinks Simmons knows him better than he knows himself.

When Fitz finishes the tea, he places the cup upside-down in the saucer with the spoon across the top. It's an old-fashioned gesture, but it's the polite way of saying he doesn't want any more tea. Fitz hopes Simmons understands it.

She does. About ten minutes later, she reenters his room. Fitz is pretending to be asleep again, but he doesn't think Simmons buys it that much this time. She picks up the cup and leaves. She doesn't return with more.

The thought of avoiding Simmons, of sending her away… It makes Fitz's stomach twist oddly. He can't believe what he's doing. Simmons is alive, and it's basically a miracle. Fitz should be spending every second of his time by her side. Instead, he's huddled under his covers in his room, hiding from her. He can only imagine what she thinks of him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey Simmons," Skye calls over as Simmons starts to wash the empty teacup in the sink. Simmons hopes Skye will drop it at hello, but she doesn't. "What's up? I thought you and Fitz would be in the lab."

"I don't think Fitz is feeling very well," Simmons replies. "Nothing alien," she elaborates as Skye looks a little worried. "Just a cold or something."

"Hey, what if colds are secretly an alien disease?" Skye jokes. Simmons pauses in washing the teacup for a moment, closing her eyes and trying to regain her composure. She wants to clench her fists, but she can't with a fragile teacup in her hands. Skye doesn't notice her distress.

"So why aren't you playing nurse?" she asks Simmons. "I would have thought, with Fitz sick, you'd be with him as much as possible."

"He's sleeping," Simmons replies, a slight stiffness to her voice. Not that she believes Fitz's act, not at all, but she's not about to tell Skye that. "I brought him some tea."

"How British," Skye mutters in response. Simmons clenches her teeth.

"Skye!" Ward barks from the other room. "I thought we were training!"

"Oops. Pissed off my SO," Skye giggles. "Gotta go!" With that, she steps out of the small kitchen, leaving Simmons in peace. Simmons can't help but feel relieved. She likes Skye, she does, but she can be overwhelming. Especially now, when all Simmons wants is someone who understands her and can talk to her without even actually speaking.

Basically, Simmons wants Fitz.

She doesn't feel quite right without him. For years now, they've been Fitzsimmons, one person instead of two. Simmons can still remember how, back when they were in school together, the instructors would always ask Simmons where Fitz was, and vice versa. Fitz and Simmons are almost like a single entity, and Simmons has come to rely on that. Perhaps their relationship is slightly codependent, but they're always there for each other, so that hasn't been a problem.

Until now. Because now they're going off on missions and they're not always together and Simmons is contracting alien plagues when Fitz isn't and Fitz is avoiding Simmons…

And that's really the crux of the problem, isn't it? That Fitz is avoiding Simmons. Everything else, Simmons can deal with. Alien plagues? She and Fitz developed a cure while pressed for time and stressed out of their minds. Going on missions? Well, so far they've always escaped unscathed. But Fitz avoiding Simmons is new. And somehow, it's worse than nearly dying of an alien disease or getting sent out into dangerous territory.

Simmons won't stand for it any longer. After drying the washed cup with a towel - to be honest, it had been washed for quite a while now and Simmons had just kept scrubbing it mechanically - Simmons puts it back in the cabinet and makes her way back to Fitz's bunk. She won't let him get away with this any longer.

"Fitz!" Simmons snaps as she enters the room. Fitz is still burrowed under his covers, but he picks his head up at her angry tone. His hair is an adorable mess, but Simmons won't think about that now. She's angry at Fitz, goddamn it.

"Simmons?" Fitz turns towards her, but he only looks at her for a split second before refocusing on the wall next to her. Simmons can't help but notice and her heart aches.

"What's going on?" she snaps, forcing her anger to remain. "Why are you acting like this? Goddamn it, Fitz, look at me!"

"I can't!" Fitz snaps back. Simmons jerks backwards. "I can't look at you," Fitz adds in a whisper. Simmons doesn't know what to say to that.

"You're that angry at me?" she finally whispers. "I…I was just trying to help things, Fitz. I was trying to save you. The cure wasn't working, and if I caused the electric pulse, I would have brought the plane down. I had no choice!"

"You always have a choice," Fitz shoots back, sitting up in his bed. "You could have let us try-"

"I didn't want to kill you!" Simmons cries. "If I had to die, I sure as hell wasn't going to bring you down with me!"

"That's not your call to make!"

"Yes it is!" Simmons is close to tears, but she can't stop. "It's my life, Fitz. I'm glad you saved me. I'm ecstatic that you saved me. But when I jumped, it didn't look like any of the cures would work!"

"But I almost lost you!" Fitz screams back. In the back of her mind, Simmons wonders how long until another member of the team comes to see what's wrong. "I can't do this without you, Jemma!"

Having Fitz use her first name is what breaks Simmons. "Leo…" she whispers softly. "Leo, I couldn't let you all die with me."

"Who says I would have wanted to live if you were dead?" Fitz shoots back, but all venom is gone. Simmons tries to keep from crying, but it's a difficult struggle. Seeing this, Fitz pales.

"Jemma," he whispers, holding his arms out. Simmons runs into them, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I'm so sorry too, Leo," Simmons whispers back. "I'm so sorry."

In the warm embrace of Fitz's arms, Simmons knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she's forgiven.


End file.
